


Why So Grim?

by wordsOfA_feather



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blood and Gore, Horror, Reapers, all sorts of horror actually, demons and other stuff, fictober20, it all started with a drinking game, magic and fantasy, there might be a lot of drinking, tons of cursing, who would want to cheat death?, ygo x grim adventures of billy and mandy, ygocollablove
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsOfA_feather/pseuds/wordsOfA_feather
Summary: Bakura eyed the figure before him. He was definitely an odd fellow to say the least. “So, I take it you’re a reaper of sorts?”The man before him chuckled. “You can say that.” He raised a hand to polish the sharp end of his scythe. “My name is Death.”
Comments: 13
Kudos: 7





	1. Booze Hoo

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Fictober 2020 submission!
> 
> This is an intro chapter. The next one will actually follow the the set day.
> 
> I was super inspired by The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy, so there might be some correlation between the fic and the show. It is very loosely based on the series considering I have a very vague recollection of the specific characters in it, but we're going to make this work!
> 
> If you're just going to stop at the notes, remember this is like the start of any new series. It gets better soon, I promise!

The dense sound of metal scratched against the pavement as a heavy object was dragged over it. Light footsteps accompanied the sharp scratching, stopping every so often to shed light to a soft mumbling. Growing tired of the noise, the cloaked individual lifted his hand and twirled the object in it. He felt as if he’d been walking down the same dimly lit street for a while. He glanced back at the scribbles on the paper in his other hand. He really needed to get a new assistant, hopefully someone who could write legibly. 

His instincts suddenly forced him to stop dead in his tracks. His eyes looked to the well lit house at the end of the cul-de-sac.

He’d arrived.

——

Music blared from the living room speakers as a white haired male typed madly away at his computer. He was a week behind on his deadline and was working as fast as he could to get it submitted. He shoved another handful of fries in his mouth as he re-read the line he just wrote. Nope, not strong enough. He frantically hit the backspace button and resumed typing quickly. His hand reached out to grab another handful of fries on the plate beside him, but only grabbed air. He lifted his head from his screen to glance at the plate and groaned. He hated distractions, especially when he was in the zone. Reluctantly, he grabbed the plate and got up to walk to the kitchen to make more. As soon as he turned to walk to the kitchen he stopped. Had he left the light in the kitchen off?

His eyes narrowed, trying to think back to a couple of hours earlier to when he was last in the room. It’s not like him at all to turn the lights off when he was home. Hell, it wasn’t like him to turn the lights off in general if you had asked Marik. He shook his head attempting to get rid of the thoughts. He’s been so stressed lately that he probably did turn off the lights. He walked into the kitchen and felt around the wall for the light switch.

A bright white light immediately filled the space. Bakura squinted to adjust his eyes to the newly lit room. Everything was exactly as he expected. Everything except the dark figure standing in the corner of the room.

The white-haired male tilted his head as he slowly approached the figure in the corner. The figure was cloaked in a long black garment that fell in waves on the floor. The hood fell in front of the figure’s face so Bakura couldn’t see who it was. What caught his attention the most was the massive scythe that the figure grasped with both hands. He smirked. Was Marik playing a prank on him? Marik had spent months trying to scare him to no avail. He figured the blond would try something now that they were entering Halloween season. He’d gladly let him have this one as long as he could keep the weapon. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The sound made Bakura stop dead in his tracks. That wasn’t Marik at all. “Who are you?” He hesitantly asked, trying to peer under the hood of the intruder.

“Don’t worry about who I am,” the voice snickered, much to Bakura’s annoyance. The figure then promptly raised the scythe in the air, ready to slash down. “Just know that the day of your reckoning is finally here, Steve!”

“Wait!” The white-haired man raised both his hands in front of him. “What did you just call me?”

“Your name.”

“Steve?”

“Yes.”

Bakura slowly lowered his hands. “You think I’m Steve?”

The figure adjusted his hands on the scythe still hovering over Bakura. “Listen, I don’t have time for your games, Steve.”

A flash of copper darted into the room and nuzzled against Bakura’s leg. The figure before him seemed to lower his gaze. Bakura smirked and gestured at his leg. “This is Steve.”

The figure immediately lowered the scythe and took a piece of paper out of their pocket. Bakura eyed the gesture curiously. Just how many cases of mistaken identity had this guy had? The figure growled and pulled his hood back. 

“Cat! She wrote cat! Look at this and tell me that doesn’t look like ‘bat’!” 

Without the hood, Bakura noticed the figure before him had tri-colored hair and the deepest crimson red eyes he’s ever seen. He glanced at the piece of paper that was held out to him and couldn’t help but nod. The writing wasn’t legible but he was able to make out a line that looked like ‘Steve’ with ‘bat’ right next to it. “I’m still not a bat though.”

“I thought she meant the hair…” The strange man trailed off as he folded the paper back up and put it in his pocket. “Wait, how can you see me if you’re not Steve?”

“Am I not supposed to see you?” 

“Well, no. You’re not. Not unless your name is on that list.” 

Bakura eyed the figure before him. He was definitely an odd fellow to say the least. “So, I take it you’re a reaper of sorts?”

The man before him chuckled. “You can say that.” He raised a hand to polish the sharp end of his scythe. “My name is Death.”

“And you’re here to reap my roommate’s cat?”

Death glanced at the furball by Bakura’s feet and deeply sighed. “I don’t normally handle these cases but yes, I assume that’s what I’m doing today.”

Bakura grabbed the cat and threw it at Death, who caught the cat with ease in one hand despite being unprepared. “Have at it. Don’t make too much of a mess.”

“You don’t care?”

“Why should I?”

Death eyed Bakura curiously, his eyes lingering on the other man a bit longer than the latter would have wanted. He tapped the base of the scythe on the floor only to have it disintegrate in his hands. “Why don’t we play a game?”

Bakura raised a brow at the suggestion. “A game?”

“Yes.” He glanced down at the cat in his arm and back at the man in front of him. “I want you to kill this cat.”

“You want me to do your job for you?”

“Not necessarily.”

Bakura pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration. He really didn’t have time for any of this. “What do I get out of this?”

“You’ll get to use this.” Death held out his hand and the scythe manifested itself in it, the snath held outwards towards Bakura. “I noticed how you were staring at it earlier.”

Bakura grimaced. He forgot how much he was gawking at the weapon when he first came in. He definitely would have rethought that action had he known it wasn’t Marik he was dealing with. He suspiciously eyed the man before him. What was his deal though? First, he almost killed the wrong guy and now he was letting him take his kill. Was this his first day on the job?

“Hey, Kura! Who’s your friend?”

Both men turned to look at the kitchen doorway to notice a blond standing there noisily sipping a slurpee. The music was still blaring in the living room so neither one of them had heard when the front door had opened. 

“He’s not my friend.” Bakura stated sternly, trying to think of any way out of this situation.

“Steve is taking kindly to him.” Marik gestured to the cat in Death’s arm. “You know how she doesn’t like people.” Bakura’s eyes suddenly lit up with an idea.

“She?” Death questioned, “You named your female cat, Steve?”

Marik opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Bakura. “I have a better game for you. How about a drinking game?”

Death warily narrowed his eyes at him. “A drinking game?”

“Yes, a drinking game.” Bakura shot a glance at Marik hoping that was enough to keep the blond from speaking up. Luckily, it seemed like the other was still engrossed with the fact that Steve was enjoying Death’s presence. “It’s easy - much easier than killing an animal.” Marik shot a worried stare at Bakura which went ignored. “I’ll line up 13 shots on a table; one row for each of us. The goal of the game is to recite the alphabet after every shot. Whoever gets to the end and is able to recite the entire alphabet, wins.”

Death gripped the outstretched scythe, which Bakura watched disintegrate again as soon as the action was performed. “And if I win?”

“You can take all of our lives.”

“Wait, what?” Marik spoke up only to be ignored by both men before him.

Bakura watched a shimmer of excitement in Death’s crimson orbs. “But if we win, you have to be our servant.” The shimmer vanished but a sinister smile appeared over the reaper’s visage.

“Deal.”

Marik laughed nervously then promptly grabbed Bakura by the arm and led him back to the cabinets on the far end of the kitchen. Bakura wiggled himself out of the blond’s grip and started grabbing shot glasses out of the cupboards. “Kura. What are you doing?”

Bakura ignored the blond again and proceeded to line up the glasses on the table beside them. Various colors were now scattered on the table. Bakura glanced over to the reaper, who was staring at every action curiously. He pulled a nearly empty bottle of vodka as well as a brand new bottle from the cupboard and started pouring into the glasses. Marik sighed and grabbed the now empty bottle from the table. “What makes you think we can trust him?”

Bakura snickered, “You act as if we both haven’t dabbled in the occult before.” He picked up one of the shot glasses and thrust it in Marik’s general direction. “You know the drill, you’re starting.”

Marik reluctantly grabbed the glass and glanced back over the table. The third figure silently joined both men. “The idea is to drink in the row that you have, just to make sure you’re drinking the correct amount. I have the middle row.”

___

The blond shakily put down the eighth shot glass. His hands were laying on the table, bracing the rest of his body for support. He was holding on a lot longer than he normally had before. 

“Aaa…” Marik paused making the other two men wonder if he passed out standing up. “C…?”

“And you’re done.” Bakura walked over to where Marik was standing and helped lower him to the ground beside them all. 

Marik grabbed Bakura’s arm, keeping the other male at the same height on the floor. “No, Kura, I got this! F, N… G!”

Bakura bit back a laugh and gently released Marik’s hold on his arm, “You did good. Just rest for a bit.” Steve walked over to Marik and nuzzled in his lap. Bakura turned back to the reaper, who was looking very smug. “Would you like to go next?”

Death glanced back at the three rows of shot glasses on the table. Marik’s row had 5 remaining glasses that were untouched, the rest were piled up on the side. His hand hovered over the first glass in the top row. He turned his head back to Bakura, expecting a reaction. Instead, he was met with a scowl.

“Do you think I’d actually cheat, Death?” He smirked and crossed his arms, “You’re free to choose whatever row you’d like.”

The reaper turned back to the table and opted to grab the first glass from the last row instead. 

__ 

Bakura slammed his thirteeth blue shot glass down on the table. Those last few were a lot harder to get through than he remembered. Death stood hunched over the side of the table, trying to steady himself. Both he and Bakura had finished their 13 shots flawlessly. However, the reaper looked far worse for wear than his counterpart did. Bakura glanced at the man before him. They were at a standstill, weren’t they? Looking back down at the table, Marik’s 5 remaining shots were still lined up in a row.

“So, since we’re both evenly matched.” Bakura picked up a shot glass from Marik’s remaining five and held it out to Death who slowly locked eyes with him. “We now have to drink shot for shot of Marik’s remaining row.”

He smirked as he saw a fleeting look of defeat cross over Death’s face before he grabbed the shot glass from his outstretched hand. Bakura watched as the reaper threw back the shot glass and slammed the glass back down on the table. Death heavily sighed, “…How. How are you still… standing?” 

Bakura shrugged, “What can I say? My body is 90% vodka. Now, the alphabet?” Death stood silent for a bit. So silent that Bakura was ready to count him out until he heard mumbling. “Do you want to share with the class?”

“…D, E, F, G, H, J, I, K -”

“Wait, what was that?”

Death glared at Bakura. It was then that he realized the meaning behind the phrase if looks could kill. The reaper grabbed the next shot in the line and forcibly held it out to the current bane of his existence. Bakura tried his best to muster an innocent smile as he reached out and grabbed the shot glass from the extended hand. 

Bakura drank the shot and set it gingerly on the table, smirking back at Death. “A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. J. K. L. M. N. O. P. Q. R. S…” 

He casually started making his way over to where Death was hunched over, still bracing the table for leverage. “T. U. V. W. X.” Bakura got close to Death’s ear and whispered the last few letters. “…Y. Z.”

The reaper continued to glare daggers at the man dangerously close to him. Bakura’s coy smile never left his face. “Let me guess, this is the first challenge you’d ever lost?”

“What makes you say that?”

“No one in their right mind agrees to a 13-shot challenge.” Death growled and turned away from Bakura. The other man laughed at the action. “Welcome to the family, Death. We have a spare room upstairs; you should probably start making yourself at home since it’s getting late.” He patted the reaper on the back and glanced at where Marik was currently passed out, holding a brown furball in his arms. “Actually, for your first job, get him put to bed.”


	2. Better You Than Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reaper paused before saying, “You don’t seem to like people.”
> 
> “What a keen observation.” Bakura angrily reopened his laptop and attempted to concentrate on his report. His mind struggling to make sense of the words in front of him.
> 
> “But you also don’t seem to like much of anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fictober 2020 Day 1: "No, come back!"

Bakura typed haphazardly away at his laptop, trying to finalize his report. He hadn’t expected to deal with the situation that he had to the night before nor had he expected to now be here half drunk still trying to finish what he started, but yet here he was.

His fingers slowed until they finally came to a complete stop. What exactly had happened last night? It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen a reaper before, he wasn’t a stranger to the supernatural. His hand absentmindedly traveled to his chest, feeling the sudden heaviness of an item. An item that had long ago plagued his very existence. He gripped the front of his shirt and shifted his thoughts back to the present. The words seemed to dance on the screen where he had left them. He growled as he slammed the laptop shut and nearly jumped out of his skin. He wasn’t expecting there to be someone sitting on the opposite side of him.

“Talk about tunnel vision.” The figure opposite him smirked and glanced down at the laptop. “What are you working on?”

“Would it kill you to announce that you’re present?” Bakura asked through clenched teeth. Death blinked and smiled innocently. 

“No.”

Bakura raised a brow at the response.

“Nothing would really kill me, per say.”

Bakura growled and angrily stormed into the kitchen with his laptop in hand. He should have thought through the conditions of their deal more thoroughly. Had he known that this man would have driven him up a wall, he would have never played the game. Both him and his thoughts stopped in their tracks upon noticing a hunched over blond at the kitchen table. He tilted his head, observing the figure before him.

“Marik?”

The figure groaned and fiercely gripped the sides of his head. “Kura, do yo have to be so loud?”

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“I got hungry.”

Bakura hesitated, trying to not snap at the man in front of him. “Why didn’t you just call me?”

Marik rubbed his temples and groaned once more. “You know you’re not really a people person, Kura.”

“So?”

“Would you really have helped?”

“Of course.”

“That’s a lie.” A new voice had joined in on their discussion causing Bakura to turn back towards the kitchen doorway and find a figure shrouded in black standing with arms crossed. Bakura rolled his eyes and fiercely ran a hand through his hair.

“Can you help him?”

Death stared at Bakura blankly and looked over to where Marik was sitting. “What exactly do you expect me to do?”

“If I knew the answer to that I wouldn’t be asking you, would I?”

“No amount of magic is going to make a hangover go away.”

“Then what _can_ you do?” Bakura snapped back a bit harsher than he intended. He noticed Marik looked up at him from the corner of his eyes but he ignored the look. The reaper glared back at him wordlessly. Part of Bakura regretted that he reacted the way that he did, but he was annoyed. He just wanted everyone to leave him alone just long enough to finish his report. What that all too much to ask?

Death finally broke his glare on Bakura and turned around, a sudden dark void shot out of the floor in vines, forming a portal in front of him. A wave of unease fell over Bakura causing him to be weary for what was to come. He felt sick. Where was this feeling coming from? 

As Death stepped through the doorway, Bakura reacted through no will of his own. “No, wait come back!” As soon as the words were yelled, Bakura tried desperately to pull them back. The vortex dissipated much like the scythe had done before. Bakura gasped and clamped his hands over his mouth. In his surprise, he had let his laptop drop to the floor. 

“Like I said, not the most people person.” 

Bakura felt like he was free-falling. Why did he feel like his world was collapsing? His breathing was rougher, had it always been that rapid? Dark shadows started spiraling on the floor beside him. He eyed the movement curiously, his heart hoping that the reaper was coming back. The shadows erupted upwards into the same void from before, exposing a doorway in which someone was walking through. Bakura noticed the tri-colored hair before he noticed the rest of the body. His blood immediately started to boil.

Death walked out of the void holding a cup filled with blue, shimmering liquid in one hand. He placed the cup in front of Marik as the shadows once again retreated behind him. “Drink this.”

Marik eyed the cup and immediately jumped when he heard a loud slam. Bakura had angrily pinned Death to the wall.

“Where the hell did you go?!”

Crimson eyes seemed to burn into Bakura’s skull. “You told me to fix it. What’s the problem now?” Every word seemed to be laced with venom. What’s the problem now? Bakura was wondering the same thing.

He narrowed his eyes, not believing the act at all. “You lost the bet.”

“I know.”

“How can we be so sure you’re keeping up your end of the bargain?”

Death looked around and shifted in Bakura’s grasp. “Can you get off of me so that I can explain?” Bakura reluctantly let go of Death and stepped back a bit, giving him space. The reaper sighed and held out his hands. A red thin line almost resembling a string appeared, tethering his right arm to Marik’s and his left arm to Bakura’s. “As you can see, I really have no choice in the matter. That challenge was a binding act.”

Marik attempted to grab the string only to have his hand go right through it. He glanced at Bakura noticing that he just tried to do the same thing.

“I’m bound to both of you until you release me from my servitude.”

“But why can’t we grab it?” Marik asked.

“Or see it?” Bakura added.

“You’re not from my world.” Death rolled his eyes and waved his fingers, causing the string to dissapear once more. “This would have been obvious had you both been from there. I’m confused why I have to explain that since it still doesn’t explain why you both can see me.”

Bakura lifted his left hand and looked it over intently. The red thread that bound them all was something he’s never had to deal with before. He’s had written contracts, even ones drawn in blood - those were his favorite. What conditions did this thread entail? Was this thread the reason why he felt the way he did earlier? Why did Death leaving drive him into so much despair?

He looked up and noticed Death’s gaze on him, unwavering. Why did he suddenly get the feeling that the reaper knew more than he was letting on?

“This tastes really good!”

Both men looked over at Marik, Death speaking first. “It’s a mix of herbs and juices. It’s supposed to numb you to pain. It’s not a hangover cure but it might make you feel better for now.”

“Yeah, if it doesn’t kill you first.” Bakura huffed and crossed his arms, looking away from both men. 

Marik shot a glare at Bakura and eagerly drank the rest of his drink. “Maybe then you’ll finally stop being so crabby.” 

Bakura rolled his eyes as he picked up his laptop and angrily stormed out of the room. He threw himself on the couch and reopened the laptop to the same document that has been plaguing him. He’s had countless warnings at work already about his job performance but he didn’t care. He was trying to get this done so that he didn’t have to sit in yet another disciplinary meeting to discuss yet another reason why he wasn’t able to get this simple task done. 

His fingers lightly tapped over a couple of keys before he turned his left wrist outward again, seeking the thread. The feeling that he felt earlier looming over him like a dark shadow. He’d never felt anything that strongly before especially for someone that he cared nothing for. He needed to find out more information about this but who could he ask? He didn’t have any connections in the occult anymore. He glanced over his report. Even though he worked for the paranormal activity division, he couldn’t trust his co-workers. 

Actually, they were all just a bunch of idiots.

He deeply sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, you can make yourself useful and wash dishes or something.”

The figure on the other end of the couch laughed. “You’re getting better at sensing that I’m here.”

“Why can’t you go bother Marik?” Bakura stared at the screen waiting for a smartass response but frowned when he was instead met with silence. He lowered the laptop screen to glance at the other end of the couch that was obscured by the device. Death was staring at him intently as if he were examining him. The stare was unwavering, pinned. However, what Bakura found slightly unnerving was the giant grin plastered on the other’s face. Bakura raised a brow trying to force a reaction from the other. Has he blinked at all this entire time? “What?”

“You’re interesting.”

Bakura narrowed his eyes at the ominous man before him, the grin never fading. Yeah, he definitely hadn’t blinked this entire time. “What ever are you talking about?”

The reaper paused before saying, “You don’t seem to like people.”

“What a keen observation.” Bakura angrily reopened his laptop and attempted to concentrate on his report. His mind struggling to make sense of the words in front of him.

“But you also don’t seem to like much of anything.”

Bakura slammed his laptop shut again and glared at the man in front of him. “What do you want?”

“I just don’t think that’s true.”

It was taking all he had to contain his composure, or what was left of it. Bakura closed his eyes and slowly rubbed his temples with his fingers. He could definitely feel the hangover coming on. “What’s. Not. True.” He asked, placing emphasis on every word. He really didn’t want to entertain this discussion but the reaper seemed intent on not leaving him alone. 

Once again, he was met with silence. He slowly opened his eyes to find that there was no one in front of him. Confused, he looked around the room to find that he was the only one in it. Bakura groaned loudly. He shoved his laptop onto the couch and made his way back into the kitchen to find a familiar pair sitting at the table. “What the bloody hell?!”

Marik immediately turned to glare at Bakura while the reaper raised an eyebrow. “What now, Kura?!”

Bakura stomped over to the table that they were sitting at and slammed both hands on the table top. “Leave me the fuck alone.” His face inches from Death’s, whose face had turned into genuine confusion.

“What did I do now?”

“Are you really going to sit there and play dumb with me?”

“Bakura, calm down.”

“Shut it, Marik.”

Death rolled his eyes and blew his blond bangs out of his face. “You were the one who left the room yet somehow this is my fault?”

Bakura was sure that if looks could kill, Death wouldn’t just be the other’s name. He raised his arm, ready to grab the reaper by the collar only to have a firm hand hold him back. His head whipped to the owner of the hand. 

“What is going on with you, Bakura?” Marik glared at him, tightening his hold. 

“He refuses to let me work in peace! He was just in the other room babbling about utter nonsense.” Marik’s face immediately turned into deep confusion.

“What are you talking about? He’s been here with me this entire time.”

Bakura turned back to face the reaper. His face was emotionless as he gazed at both men but Bakura could have sworn he saw fear flash in his eyes. He turned back to the blond and shook his arm out from his loosened grasp. “No, Marik. He was _just_ in the other room. He -”

“I was not.” The words were spoken slowly and with acute finality. Bakura turned back to Death, his face mirrored the words he just spoke, not leaving any room for misinterpretation. Was he going crazy? No, he definitely saw Death at the end of the couch. He was staring back at him. He…was grinning. That grin. Bakura felt his insides start to turn.

He turned back to Marik, hoping they were both teasing. Did Marik finally succeed in playing a joke on him? However, looking at the blond didn’t bring Bakura peace. His face was twisted in deep concern, which was unlike every other time he had tried to play a prank on him. He glanced at his left wrist and back at the reaper, who’s face hadn’t changed neither. Bakura slowly backed away from the table.

He was stressed.

He was tired.

He definitely was starting to feel his hangover.

Maybe this was all in his head? Yeah, that’s it. He shook his head, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Giving one final glance to both men in front of him, he walked back out of the kitchen.

“Sorry about that.” Marik frowned as he sat back down in his chair. “He’s a great guy but really hard to understand.”

Death shrugged, his crimson eyes glowing bright. “It’s ok. I actually find him kind of interesting.”


	3. All's Well that Ends Grim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which they all have a heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fictober Day 2: "That's the easy part"
> 
> Trying to get some formalities out of the way. Let's see how this goes!

“So tell me more about yourself!” Marik jumped in front of Death, startling him. 

“You’re a lot sneakier than I am.”

“I know.” Marik grinned widely. “Bakura tells me the same thing.”

Death chuckled and looked away. He was still unsure how far he could trust these two men. Marik was the complete polar opposite of Bakura. He couldn’t help but wonder what drew the two together and how they’ve been able to stay friends. 

He plucked another blade of grass from the ground that he was sitting on. Death had decided to sit in their front yard, looking to admire the gloomy day. That was ultimately the excuse that he had convinced himself of. Reality was that he was trying to stay as far away from whatever latest nuisance managed to piss Bakura off. He was absolutely certain that whatever it was, his blame would not be too far behind.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable wearing that?”

The reaper looked down at his black gown, really unsure of what the blond was getting at. “What’s wrong with this?” He asked dubiously. 

“I think if you’re going to be outside you should be, you know,” Marik raised his fingers to accentuate air quotes, “blending in”. 

Death stared blankly at Marik. “You do realize that no one else can see me, right?”

“I don’t know. I think you use that cloak to hide.” The blond shrugged and looked back out to the street. “If we’re going to be best friends, I’d love to get to know you without any barriers.”

Marik really was a character. Death plucked at another blade of grass, considering the thought that was thrown at him. Part of him wanted to ignore the blond and let him continue about his day. However, Marik had been nothing but nice to him since they met.

Even though he was going to reap his cat.

Still, Marik was making an effort to get to know him. Why was he still trying to block him out? He sighed and slowly brought both of his hands up to his chest, a light aura encasing them both. The air around him swirled into a dusty cloud, obscuring the figure within. As the wind started to die down, he heard Marik’s voice yell out.

“Yes! That’s more like it!”

Death was now wearing a long sleeve, black skin-tight shirt with black skin-tight pants and black boots. The only pop of color on him, besides his hair and eyes, was the light gray vest that he had on.

Marik beamed the brightest smile that Death had ever seen. “How are you feeling now?”

“Awkward.” Death pulled at the hem of his shirt. Marik wrapped an arm over his shoulder, pulling him in close.

“You’ll get used to it. You look so much better already!”

Movement behind Marik in the yard next door caught Death’s attention. Marik continued rambling on about something but he couldn’t focus on him. His gaze stayed glued on the bushes separating both homes. He was able to make out some red, maybe the person’s back? Their shoulder? A black hat grazed the top of the bushes. Then a flash of silver. Silver...strands? _Please tell me that wasn’t hair._

“Hey there, Pegasus!”

_Fuck._

Death swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help the slew of questions that started running through his mind. What was Pegasus doing here? Do they know who this man really is? Is this all a setup? His hands suddenly felt clammy. It was taking all of his will to ignore the fight or flight that was burning within him. His final thought worried him more than every other that had crossed his mind.

Did he just see me transform? 

“Good evening, gentlemen.” Pegasus’ voice snapped the reaper out of his thoughts, his smile wavering too long for comfort on his being. Marik turned back to the reaper with a questioning glance. As soon as his eyes landed on the other, his face twisted with concern. “Who’s your friend there?”

Marik’s head spun back so fast to meet Pegasus’ stare. “This is, umm -”

“Atem.” Death spoke in a low voice, his eyes remaining glued on Pegasus.

Pegasus’ smile widened. “Atem. You look very familiar. Have we met before?”

“I don’t believe we have. Pegasus, was it?” 

“Yes.” Pegasus’ hands danced over the bushes lining his side of the lawn. “When did you get in?”

The way that Pegasus’ eyes never left Death, unraveled his entire demeanor. He felt exposed as if Pegasus knew who he really was. As if he knew the truth. But no one outside of his realm had seen him without a cloak, right? What are the odds that he actually did _know_ who he was? The unwavering eyes made him question that very thought.

Death froze and glanced back at Marik, his eyes silently asking for help. At this point he was up for anything to escape the situation they were currently in. Thankfully for him, Marik seemed to have gotten the hint.

“We’ll be right in!” Marik responded to the call that no one else heard. “Sorry, Bakura is looking for us, unfortunately. You know how he gets. We’d love to catch up later, though!”

“Of course, can’t keep him waiting.” Pegasus chuckled to himself. Death’s insides turned. “It was lovely to see you both.” Pegasus waved as Death forced himself to move to grab Marik by the arm and drag him back inside. He slammed the door shut and pinned the blond up against it in the process. 

“Do tell, why didn’t you disclose that Pegasus was your neighbor?!”

Marik frowned, not following whatever crazy train Death was riding on. “Why does it matter -”

“I can’t - !” Death bowed his head, attempting to calm himself down. He took a deep breath before starting again. “I _can’t_ be around him.”

“Why? Help me understand. What is going on?”

Death searched the blond’s face, seeking for any sign of deceit, any sign of dishonesty. His mind was still running amok with endless thoughts and a never ending list of questions. Criticisms were mentally shooting at him from every direction. How could he let himself get caught in this situation?

“Death? Please -”

“We can start there.” The reaper mumbled as he dropped his hands to his sides.

Marik tilted his head, confusion overwhelming his entire body at this point. “…What do you mean start there?” He asked, uneasy.

“My name. My name isn’t Death.” Death stepped back from the blond and wrapped his arms around himself, choosing to stare at the floor rather than at the man in front of him. “It’s Grim.” He all but mumbled, waiting for the blond to react.

“How original.”

Both men looked to the source of the sound to find Bakura leaning against the far wall of the room. “How much did you hear?” Grim asked.

“All of it.” Bakura sternly stated. “Yet, the only thing that I’m getting out of this is that you deceived us.”

Grim frowned and turned back to Marik, who was glaring at Bakura. “Ignore him.” He stated slowly as he turned a gentle glance back at the reaper, beckoning for him to continue. 

He deeply sighed. “There are people in certain places who are after me, more specifically, my power.”

“That doesn’t explain why you lied about your name.”

Grim glared at Bakura. “I couldn’t risk letting anyone know that I had left my realm.” Bakura raised a brow, much to the reaper’s annoyance. “I couldn’t let anyone know that I was actually out reaping.”

“But aren’t you a grim reaper?” Marik cautiously asked, staring at Grim just a few feet in front of him. The reaper clenched his fists, the laughable question echoing in his mind. 

“Reaping? That’s the easy part. Everyone just expects you to reap, to take a life. No one thinks about how hard it would be to have to lead the entire reaper realm.”

He noticed that both Marik and Bakura immediately exchanged glances.

“Grim, was it?” Bakura asked slowly, uncrossing his arms and pushing himself off the wall. Grim suddenly felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He took a step back but hit a wall. He should have known better than to trust these guys. Why didn’t he ever listen to his gut feeling? 

Marik took a step towards him with an outstretched hand, “Hey, you’re ok.”

I’m ok? What was he talking about? Grim immediately summoned the scythe in his hands causing both men in front of him to stop in their tracks. “S-stop.” His voice was laced with worry but he hoped the other two men didn’t catch that.

“Can you please calm down? You look as if we’re trying to kill you.” 

“Yeah.” Marik added, attempting to slowly extend his hand again. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You don’t have to tell us anything you are not ready to say.”

Great, so not only had his voice betrayed him, but his face had, too. Grim tightened his grip on the scythe, held out firmly in front of him. He stared pointedly at Bakura. “Why did you ask if that was my name?”

Bakura narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him. “I… We had heard of a reaper a few years ago. He was a half-breed who was forced to take over the throne after his father met an untimely fate.” He glanced at Marik and back at the reaper. “Rumor at the time was that he was very inexperienced.”

Grim snorted. “Inexperienced?”

“Yeah.”

The reaper grimaced. This wasn’t the first time he’s heard this, so why was it hitting him as if it were? _We can’t seem weak, Atem!_ The voice echoed in his memory. The same voice that fueling him to take on that one job; the stupid job that landed him in this predicament. No matter what he did, he couldn’t move past criticism, past the stigma, past living in his father’s shadow. His hands tightened around the snath only to have the scythe disintegrate in his hands.

All of the sudden he felt arms around him. “You don’t have to be afraid.” A voice whispered in his ear. The words were simple but they managed to quell the fire within him. However, he was too consumed in his thoughts to make out the voice. Was that Marik?

“That certainly explains the whole Steve stunt.”

That was definitely Bakura. His eyes fluttered open. When had he closed them?

“Bakura, will you please be nice for once?!” 

The reaper wriggled himself out of the arms around him, looking back at the blond. Bakura held his hands out in exasperation. “ _Nice_? Marik, he lied to us. _Lied_.” 

“Well, then maybe you guys are even now!” As soon as the last word left his mouth, Marik froze. Grim narrowed his eyes at the blond, trying to understand what that line meant. He turned to Bakura and noticed his arms had fell to his side and he was staring daggers back at Marik.

“ _Maybe_ we’re even now?” Grim slowly asked as he examined Bakura, who’s eyes had shifted to look to him. Their intensity unchanging.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Oh, I think he does.” Grim glanced back to Marik to realize he had dug his face in his hands. He’d probably have better luck asking him for answers than he would Bakura. “What did he do?”

“Marik. Don’t you dare.”

“Ignore him.” Grim interrupted Bakura, keeping his eyes pinned on Marik. “What did he do?” He noticed the blond’s falling composure and couldn’t help as a smirk slowly crept on his face. 

Marik let his hands fall and looked up at Grim, dejectedly. “I’m sorry… It’s really not my place to say.”

“Fine.” Grim huffed as he crossed his arms. Out of the corer of his eyes he could feel Bakura’s stare bearing down on him. 

“Really?” Marik asked, hopefully. Such hope was laced into those words that Grim almost felt bad for what he did next.

Almost.

“Of course. I’m just afraid that by you not telling me, you’ve created this barrier on the very friendship we were trying to cultivate.”

Marik stared at him wide-eyed. He sighed and looked back at Bakura, hopelessness overcoming his entire body.

“Wow.” Bakura stressed, with heated anger behind that one word. Grim didn’t have to look at Bakura to know that the statement was directed at him.

He watched as Marik seemingly ran through multiple scenarios in his head. His face looked as if he were evaluating each one. He noticed his eyes never left Bakura’s; was he trying to see what would make him less pissed off?

Grim narrowed his eyes at the blond. Why did he care so much about friendship? He thought back to his…friends? He mentally held back a grimace. Everyone that came to mind wasn’t too close with him to begin with; it all came along with the price of being king. He suddenly felt a pang at the pit of his stomach. Marik was trying to really get to know him. He shouldn’t have used this against him.

“Kura rigged the game.”


	4. Maybe We Shouldn't Have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which the truth comes to the light and the realization that some things didn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fictober Day 3: "You did this"
> 
> Inspiration killed me uploading this yesterday. Anywho - look out for a double posting today! (hopefully)

Is this what it felt like when the planets aligned? Or maybe this was how it felt to be in a calm before the storm. Marik could swear that was able to sense the static in the air, the room suddenly feeling as if it had dropped 20 degrees in the last few seconds. 

Feel the moment that Atem’s patience had snapped.

“He…what?”

He tried his best to ignore the angry glare that Bakura was attempting to burrow into his skull. “Remember that half empty bottle of vodka? Well, funny story…that wasn’t vodka.” Marik could visibly see a fire burning behind Grim’s eyes. “This isn’t the first challenge we’ve won.”

Atem angrily turned towards Bakura. “So, let me get this straight. I’m _bound_ to you two because _you_ decided to cheat?”

“You did this!” Bakura retorted with as much anger as the shorter male had directed at him. “How was _I_ supposed to know that making you our servant would make you bind our souls to yours?!”

Atem stared at Bakura, mouth agape. “Are you really blaming _me_ for how I reacted to a challenge that we _both_ set the rules to?”

“Nowhere did I mention soul binding!”

Atem’s eyebrow twitched in pure annoyance at the man in front of him. Marik ran in between both males with his arms extended. “Guys, stop! This isn’t how friends are supposed to act!”

“We’re not friends!” Both males yelled back at the blond in unison. 

Marik frowned as he lowered his arms. “Well, you guys are both wrong but I’m glad you found something to agree on.”

Atem crossed his arms in defeat and looked away from the pair in front of him. Bakura pinched the bridge of his nose before addressing the blond. “Marik, remind me to never tell you anything.”

“Kura, I’m sorry but now we can all move past this and start anew?” 

Atem huffed, his blonde bangs lightly moving and falling back on his face as he side-eyed the blond. “Can you guys hurry up and release me from my servitude so that we can go back to our normal lives?”

“Gladly.” Bakura curtly responded.

Marik’s heart sank, this isn’t what he wanted at all. He had hoped that this was something that they could all move ahead from. “Guys, wait! Can’t we talk it out?”

“Trust me, Marik. We’ll be better off without him.” Bakura said never looking away from Atem, who he seemed to be in an endless staring contest with. Neither man daring to back down. “You’re released from your servitude.” Bakura stoically stated, waiting for a response from the reaper. All three men waited for something to happen but everything felt the same. Bakura raised a brow at Atem’s sudden frown. “Did it work?”

Atem slowly shook his head. “Try saying my name, maybe?”

Bakura rolled his eyes. “Which one, oh great one?”

The shorter male narrowed his eyes. “Try Grim? Maybe? Or Atem?”

“I release you from your servitude, Grim.” Atem’s frown deepened causing Bakura to move to the next option. “I release you from your servitude, Atem?” Upon still noticing nothing happening, he huffed. “You know, this would be a lot easier if you didn’t have an identity crisis.”

“Are you always this infuriating?”

“Always.”

Marik was trying to hide his excitement on the failed attempts. “So what does this mean?”

“It means…” Atem rubbed his temples, seemingly trying to find an answer. “It means that I have to consult the rule book. I’m not sure what’s going on, one of those statements should have worked.”

Marik couldn’t help the grin that overcame his face, catching the attention of the other two in the room. Atem frowned while Bakura rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get your hopes up. He’s gone as soon as he figures this out.”

Atem opened his mouth but closed it shortly after. “Yeah.” He finally stated, dejectedly.

“But, who knows how long that will take?” Marik said, hope interlaced in every word. “In the meantime, I have a ton of board games that we can try out! Kura and I never had enough people to play them. And we can also - wait, where are you going?”

Bakura was making his way to the stairs, ignoring everything Marik had been saying. “I’m not entertaining this conversation.”

“We’ll see how this goes, Marik.” Atem said with a small smile to which Marik beamed. “In the meantime, do you want to help me find this in the rule book?”


	5. Made to Find

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik discovers one of Grim's possessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fictober day 4: "That didn't stop you before"
> 
> Ok - I'm a couple of days behind. :( Trying my best to catch up and get back on track.

A drawer slamming shut broke him out of his thoughts. He heard another drawer opening immediately after and someone rummaging through it. Marik turned his attention back to the mess before him. This closet was a lot more cluttered than he remembered it being.

It was a sizable closet. Both him and Bakura had used that closet as their throwaway closet for years. He was still able to see their winter coats and sweaters dangling on assorted hangers. As well as their winter boots thrown onto the shelf above the rack. However, he still felt like he walked into a Halloween shop. 

Various spooky trinkets and gold items were spewed on the floor of the closet as well as on the shelf above. Their coats were pushed to the side to make room for Atem’s many…cloaks? Marik instinctively frowned. How many cloaks did one guy actually need? He distantly heard another drawer shut followed by a groan as another opened. They were both on the hunt for Atem’s rule book, which Marik personally wasn’t surprised that he misplaced in this mess. Who would have thought that the Grim Reaper was a hoarder?

Marik gently started moving the items on the floor of the closet aside. As soon as he touched the first item, he couldn’t help suppress the wave of familiarity that fell over him. He examined the object in his hand, it seemed like an ordinary gold crown. Turning it around, he noticed an eye insignia in the middle. Where had he seen that before?

“Did you find anything?”

“No.” Marik responded, a little too quickly. “I’m still looking.” He put the crown back on the floor to the corner of the closet, trying to create a pile for stuff he had already gone through. He automatically moved a couple of more gold items; plain gold cuffs, a necklace of sorts, really gaudy earrings. Marik froze looking back at the earrings that he just placed in the corner. He felt the wave of familiarity again but this time it was accompanied by panic. Why couldn’t he place where he remembered these from?

Before he knew it, he was blindly digging through the closet, everything ending up everywhere. He stopped once he hit the wall. He stared at the mess before him. All of the items were now in a pile on both the left and right walls of the closet. He stared harder at the wall before him, his breathing was labored. What was that all about? Marik shook his head ridding him of all thoughts and stared back at the wall. He didn’t remember the closet being this small.

He traced his hand up the wall in front of him. He made it up a couple of feet before his fingers hit an edge. He moved the cloaks out of the way to properly examine the item before him.

“Hey, Grim! What’s in this trunk?”

Marik nearly jumped back at how quickly Atem had made his way across the room. He was now squatting atop of the trunk, glaring back at him with a grave seriousness. His eyes were blazing crimson, burning with the same intensity that they were earlier. 

“You are not to touch this trunk.”

Marik narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why not?”

“It contains a great evil.” Atem’s eyes narrowed at the blond before continuing. “And I refuse to be held liable for what’ll happen if it gets out.”

Marik tilted his head in confusion. “Has it been let out before?”

“Stop.”

“You ended that statement weirdly.”

“Again, stop.” Atem pinched the bridge of his nose before addressing the blond again. “Just stay away from this.”

Marik rolled his eyes and stood up. “Fine. Where else do you want me to look?” His gaze fell back on Atem, who was looking away from him, a look of apprehension on his face.

“I think I’m fine here. Why don’t you go find Bakura and see if he needs your help with anything?” Atem stated lowly, still keeping his eyes away from the blond. Marik sighed and took his leave, making sure to close the door to the room on his way out. He instantly ran over to Bakura’s room and barged in, excitement all over his body. “Kura!” He whispered loudly, causing the other to simply look back at him from where he was laying in bed, annoyance overcoming his face.

“What -”

“Shh! He can hear us.” Marik continued whispering loudly. 

Bakura heavily sighed as he sat up and played along with whatever antic Marik had come up with. “What now, Marik?” He replied in an equally loud whisper back.

“Grim has a trunk!”

Bakura waited for the rest of that sentence only for it to never come. “Ok?”

“He has a trunk, Bakura!”

Bakura opened his mouth and closed it, not knowing exactly how to react. “Ok, he has a trunk. What does that have to do with me?”

“We have to find out what’s in it.”

Bakura narrowed his eyes at Marik, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in place. “He told you not to touch it, didn’t he?”

“Well…”

“Don’t bullshit me, Ishtar. You know very well that didn’t stop you before.” Bakura slowly blinked in annoyance and re-addressed the man before him. “When people don’t want you to touch something, there’s usually a really good reason for that.”

Marik groaned in annoyance. “I told you I was sorry about breaking that model figure of yours! How was I supposed to know that it was _that_ fragile?”

“Do you have any idea -” Bakura’s voice had risen well above a whisper again.

“Shh!!” 

Bakura glared daggers at the blond. “Stay away from that trunk, Marik. I mean it.”

Marik rolled his eyes. “Fine, _dad_.”

“Promise me that you won’t.”

“I promise you that I won’t open the trunk today.”

Bakura sighed and shook his head. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Marik turned and took his leave, closing the door behind him. He stood in the hallway and waited. Had Bakura really not caught on to that addition at the end of the promise? Marik smirked and glanced back at the doorway to Atem’s room. 

He needed to start planning how to get into that trunk.


	6. Better Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura witnesses one of Grim's trinkets in action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fictober Day 5: "unacceptable, try again."
> 
> Oy, this is late. Let's pretend it's still the 5th. Ok? Cool.

Bakura awoke to the sound of heavy rain hitting against his window and a strong wind flowing through the trees. An incessant sound in the back of his mind caused him to groggily slam his hand down on the object sitting on the table beside him. He opened one eye, body still laying face down on the bed, as he slowly lifted his hand off of the alarm clock, waiting for it to start ringing again. Days like today made it so hard to do anything, much less get out of bed.

He tucked his arm back under the pillow and turned his head to face the wall. A sudden flash behind his closed lids made him open his eyes immediately. The room was suddenly dark. He was able to make out the wall in front of him but it was almost as if all of the color had been drained from the room. He squinted at the wall, wondering if a lightning strike caused the electricity to go out. _But why would it suddenly get so dark?_ He debated whether or not it was worth getting up to look out of the window to see what was going on, but as soon as he dismissed the thought, the flash happened again. Except, this time, he caught what he had missed before.

He immediately sat up in bed and looked around. That last flash was accompanied by an abrupt haziness. The room shuddered as if he were in a hologram, the light from before filtering back in with various specks and rays until it faded into normalcy. He looked around the room in utter confusion. “What the hell is going on…?” He muttered out loud.

Bakura eyed his closed door and tried thinking back to the last thing he did before falling asleep, an attempt to ground himself. Marik had come in yelling about Grim, hadn’t he? Something about a trunk. A cold chill traveled up his spine causing him to shudder. Could this have been Grim? Bakura inwardly groaned, already annoyed at the thought that the reaper could be behind this. 

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately felt out of place. The feeling that overcame him was a something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. The rain continued pattering on the window outside. He gripped the edge of the bed; he was grounded, wasn’t he? This wasn’t a dream.

He made his way to the door and touched the knob only to have the room shift again. He took one last glance back at the room, which had changed into the same darkness that he had witnessed before. He walked out into the hallway only to notice that it was all the same shade of gray. The furnishings were all dulled and eerie. He almost felt as if -

“This is a parallel dimension.” He muttered out loud as his fingers grazed over the banister. A flash of light out of the corner of his eyes caused him to turn and look in the direction of Atem’s room. The door was closed but he was able to see a bright light emit from under the door that heavily contrasted against the darkness around him. He angrily sighed as he quietly made his way to the door and pressed his ear against it. Silence. Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard any noise since he last heard the rain in his room. He blinked and stepped back from the door, confused. It had been raining pretty hard. Usually when it did, he was able to hear it in this hallway. Why couldn’t he hear anything now?

The feeling from before came back full force, sending a shiver down his spine. He squinted, trying to pinpoint that feeling. What was it? His eyes flickered to the other end of the hallway.

_Oh._ It was the feeling of being watched.

The figure at the other end was frozen in place, observing him. Bakura stared, trying to make out what exactly his eyes were perceiving. The figure was at least a head taller than himself - that easily ruled out both Marik and Atem being behind this. What was throwing Bakura for a loop was the shape of the figure itself. He was able to make out the arms and the torso. There was something about the head…were there two pairs? 

A wave of unease fell over him. Even with this _thing_ staring back at him, he still wasn’t able to hear anything. Bakura slowly raised a hand up to Atem’s door knob only to see the figure do the same motion at the other end. He tilted his head and watched as the figure did the same. Bakura grimaced. There were limits to these movements and he knew that one wrong movement would cause whatever this was to do something that he was not expecting. He readied to open the door when he noticed the figure’s smile beam down at him. _Shit_.

Bright violet eyes focused on him as the figure started barreling down the hallway, giving Bakura no time to react. In a blink, the thing was standing right in front of Bakura, towering over his pale figure. Bakura swallowed, still feeling the door knob in his grasp. He looked up to get a good look at it only to see the corners of this world start to return to what he once knew again. He blinked again to find that he was the only once currently standing in his hallway, the sound of the rain hitting hard against the roof.

He exhaled, surprised to find that he had been holding his breath. He turned the knob and slowly stepped into Atem’s dimly lit room. Looking around the room seemed untouched. The bed was made, all objects seemed to be in their rightful place. He lightly closed the door behind him and glanced at the only window in the room. He definitely had seen a bright light come from this room. How could it be that the only source of light is coming from the window?

He deeply exhaled and shook his arms, trying to shake out the nervous jitters that were slowly overcoming him. A light shuffling made him immediately turn his head to the closet. He grabbed the nearest object that he could and slowly made his way over to the closet door. Gripping the object hard in one hand he swung the door open with him other. “Marik?”

“Oh, Kura! It’s you!” Marik beamed as he awkwardly tried to hide something behind his back. His eyes fell on the pillow that Bakura was holding over his head. “What are you doing with that pillow?”

Bakura groaned as he angrily whacked Marik across the face with the pillow. “Pray tell, Ishtar. What are you doing in here?”

The blond frowned as he rubbed the side of his face. “You don’t have to be mean you know.”

“You’re stalling.”

Marik nervously looked around him. “I’m helping Atem organize.”

Bakura face palmed. “Ok, firstly, as far as an answer is concerned - that is unacceptable, try again. Secondly, Grim seems to be doing very fine on his own without your meddling.”

“You have to promise not to get mad.”

“Well, that ship has certainly sailed.”

Marik sighed and scooted over to the side. Bakura shifted his eyes to look at the object that Marik revealed. Grim’s open trunk. “Marik.”

“But look at what I found!” Marik exclaimed, ignoring Bakura’s stern stare at him. He held out an hourglass object at Bakura’s general direction. “It’s pretty weird. It makes the room change color.”

Bakura froze. “What do you mean _change color_?”

“Look.” Marik turned the hourglass as Bakura made an attempt to try and stop him from doing that. 

“No, wait!” Bakura lunged at Marik only to land on the floor next to him, both of them having a hand on the hourglass. He was too late.

The room had begun shifting back to the eerie blacks and grays from before. The color being ripped at the seams around them. Marik looked curiously at Bakura. “What was that about?” 

Bakura pried the hourglass from Marik’s hands and turned it right-side up but nothing happened. “We need to go back.” He stated sternly, inspecting the object and turning it around again, his patience running thin. “How do we go back?”

“You have to wait until the sand runs out.” Marik exclaimed still eyeing Bakura suspiciously. Bakura immediately stopped fiddling with the object. “You’re acting really weird right now, what’s going on?”

Bakura closed the door to the closet, locking them both inside. “There’s something out there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious.”

Marik continued eyeing Bakura. He hadn’t known him to be spooked so easily. “Ok, let’s play devil’s advocate -”

“I’d rather not.”

The blond narrowed his eyes. “Let’s say there is something out there. I’m sure we can take it on.” He noticed as the other just lightly shook his head. Marik raised a brow. “Why not?”

“This is different, Marik.” Bakura stated slowly. “It felt as if it were looking through me.” He suddenly looked back at Marik. “Where the hell is Grim?”

Marik shrugged. “Hell if I know. His room has been empty for a while. Hey! I wonder if there’s anything in this trunk that can help us fight against whatever you saw!” He started digging through the trunk as Bakura continued examining the sand falling in the hourglass. 

There wasn’t much too peculiar about the object. The top and bottom seemed to be made out of wood, with two wooden beams fastened between both ends. There seemed to be hieroglyphs etched all around the borders of the wood. The glass enclosure was contained in the middle. He squinted at the falling sand. Wa _s this actual sand?_

“I don’t understand how someone has so much junk.” Marik muttered as he threw another object out of the way and continued digging in the trunk. 

“Stop.”

Marik stopped shifting the objects and glanced up at Bakura. “What?”

“Stop moving. Listen.”

Marik glanced at the door and strained to listen. White noise had filled the air. Both men exchanged looks, Marik frowned. “I don’t remember hearing that before. Did you?”

Bakura shook his head, glanced back at the door then back down at the hourglass in his hands. “We still have a while until the next shift.”

An extended hand suddenly dropped into his view. Bakura looked up and found Marik’s smile beaming back at him. “Do you feel like checking it out?” 

Bakura sighed as he reluctantly grabbed the extended hand and pulled himself up. “We still need a way to defend ourselves.”

“Not really.” The blond motioned toward the item in Bakura’s hands. “We just have to bide our time until the hourglass is up. Once it does, we flip.”

Bakura hesitantly nodded and took one final look at the hourglass in his hands. Why did he have a bad feeling about this?


	7. Malevolence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik and Bakura explore the other world in an attempt to find answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fictober Day 6: "that was impressive"

Marik slowly opened the door to Atem’s room and stepped out into the dark abyss that was formerly their hallway. The contrasted colors gave him a bad feeling that he tried to push past, mostly for the sake of proving Bakura wrong. He couldn’t help but think of every scenario in which he had tried, and failed, to scare Bakura. The other was either expecting it or just generally unfazed. He was a bit disappointed that whatever Bakura had run into had made him react in a way that he could never get him to.

He walked to the edge of the banister and looked down at the vast emptiness below. Normally, they would be able to see their living room from this angle; the blue couch was seated directly at the foot of the stairs and the TV would be glowing, typically playing some nonsense. It unnerved him to not be able to see that, to not see anything at all. 

“Hey, Kura. Have you seen this?”

Footsteps stepped up next to him. The other chuckled. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” Marik looked over at Bakura who was staring intently at the scene below. A heavy fog obscured the view they all once had. “You’d think something like this would be calming but… it’s just really unnerving.” 

The pause made Marik reflect on their surroundings. He couldn’t help but agree with him. It was one thing to end up in a different reality. “It’s just weird to be home and yet, not.” A sudden realization hit him. “Hey! The white noise is gone.” The solemn look on Bakura’s face caused him to rethink his realization. _Why is he looking at me like that?_

Marik looked around and frowned. “Wait…I can’t hear anything.”

“Bingo.”  
  
“But why-”

“If I knew, do you really think we’d be in this situation?”

Marik rolled his eyes and refocused back on Bakura. “So, where did you see this thing?”

Bakura motioned toward the end of the hallway. “It was just staring at me from that end. 

“The only room down there is yours. Do you think it went in there?”

“No.” The pause caused Marik to look back at Bakura, who looked pensive. “Right before you flipped us back, it had stopped right before me.”

“So…it teleported?”

“No, it ran…but…I couldn’t hear it running.” Bakura turned his attention away from the blond, in annoyance. “It caught me off guard.”

Marik glanced at the end of the hallway, back at Bakura, then back downstairs. “Have you checked out what’s down there yet?” Not getting a response, he glanced back at Bakura. “We should go.”

Bakura sighed and shot a look at the hourglass. “Fine. We need to discuss a game plan though.”

“What’s there to discuss, Kura?” Marik started as he began making his way down the stairs. “We just flip it as soon as the sand runs out to the other side.” He could feel the scowl emanating from the man behind him.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Marik stopped in the middle of the stairs, right where the view became obscured. Bakura stopped right beside him. He stared at the ominous haze covering much of the floor below them. Up close it seemed harmless, dream-like, almost inviting. Marik swallowed. He wished that Atem was around to help them through this.

“How’s that hourglass looking?”

“We’ve still got a while.”

“Cool.” Marik shuffled his feet. That wasn’t the answer that he wanted to hear. “So, how do we do this?”

Bakura narrowed his eyes at the blond beside him. “This was your idea. Did you not have a plan for this?”

“Yeah, well… I figured you’d talk me out of this by now.”

Bakura rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the shroud. “Now what?”

“We…wait?”

“Wait? Wait for what?”

Marik sat himself down on the stairs and glanced back up at Bakura. “We wait for whatever that thing was to come and get you.”

Bakura stared at Marik. “Are you serious? What about your grand plan of going downstairs?”

“If I learned anything from our previous adventures,” Marik looked back down at the swirls of dark clouds covering the ground below. “It’s that anything that looks inviting, is actually quite the opposite.”

Bakura scoffed as he leaned back on the wall behind him. “Marik, you do realize that we’re now trapped on the stairs, right?”

“Not really. If we need to, we’ll just jump.” The blond laid back down on the stairs and closed his eyes. He ignored the grumbles and complaints coming from beside him. Why did Bakura have to be so difficult? They have both been out here for, who knows how long, without anything happening. What were the odds that everything that happened was all in his head? “Kura, are you really sure about what you saw before?”

The kick to the ribs that Marik had braced himself for never came. _Bakura can’t possibly be thinking through that question_. Marik opened an eye to look at the elder but was instead met with an empty space where he was previously standing. “Bakura?” Marik sat up and looked around. Bakura was nowhere in sight.

Marik’s thoughts raced through the past few seconds. They had both been talking, right? He scrambled up the stairs back to the top and shifted his gaze between both ends of the hallway. A multitude of thoughts started racing through his mind. Bakura was a lot of things but it wasn’t in his nature to just leave him hanging in the middle of a sentence. Marik had absentmindedly started to move towards Bakura’s room. _Maybe he actually went to check out his room._

He gently pushed the door open, surprised to find that it wasn’t closed all the way. “Kura?” He whispered as he stepped inside. The room was as silent as the rest of the corridor was. There didn’t seem to be any sign of Bakura in that room. Scurrying footsteps behind him made him immediately turn his head around. The door was closed and there was nothing between his back and the door. _Those footsteps sounded so close._

Marik’s heart sank. _Sound_. Why was he able to hear that? He involuntarily fought a shiver that overcame his body. He needed to find Bakura and fast. Marik turned the door handle to exit the room but it wasn’t budging. He raised a brow at the door knob; it locked from the inside. There was no reason for it to not be turning right now. 

A black shadow crawling up from the underside of the door caused him to jump back. Marik stared at the shadow in a curious fixation that betrayed how nervous he actually was at the moment. He watched as the shadow materialized itself into a shape. A being. 

“That was impressive.” He muttered out loud focusing on the shape that the shadow had materialized itself in. “You’re me?”

Marik mentally slapped himself. Was he really sitting here trying to start a conversation with matter that just turned itself into a solid? The shadow’s edges were bleeding back into the darkness around them. Marik swallowed suddenly thinking of the alternative. Was the darkness feeding the shadow before him? Marik could see the door behind the empty eye sockets staring back at him. _Was this what Bakura meant when he said it was staring right through him?_

The shadow took one step forward and Marik immediately matched it by taking one step back. He needed to get out of this room and fast. His eyes darted to the right of him and landed on a metal bat. He was suddenly very thankful for making Bakura join a baseball league with him last Spring. 

He quickly ran towards the bat and grabbed it without taking his eyes off the shadow. As he held it defensively in front of him he realized the shadow hadn’t moved at all. It was still looking at the direction that he had been standing in before. Marik tightened his grip on the bat unsure of what to do next.

It seemed like eons were passing. Marik could have sworn he heard the sound of his breathing. The figure suddenly turned his head to look at Marik, who couldn’t help the shiver that ran through his spine at the gaze. The shadow cocked it’s head and smiled. Marik’s breath caught in his throat.

The figure had no eyes.

But the smile. How did it have teeth?

Suddenly, the shadow dissipated as if someone had smashed it into a million shards. Marik stood there, frozen. He was too afraid to move. Too afraid to breathe. What was that thing? He needed to find Bakura. But, what was that thing? Was that the thing that Bakura was referring to? 

Marik mustered all of his energy to move, to finally step forward from where he had been stuck standing. He needed to remind himself that he was stuck here without Bakura.

_Fuck_. He really was going to be stuck here without Bakura. Bakura still had the hourglass with him. He groaned, really wishing that he had a way to reach Grim. He blinked. ' _A way to reach Grim'_ resonated in his thoughts. He glanced down at his wrists. Surely being in this world allowed him to actually see the thread now. Right?

A faint red line ran from his right wrist down to the floor below him. The line was so faint that he had thought that he was imagining it when he saw it. He lowered his hand to the floor and moved his hand back and forth, noting that the thread moved along with it. He frowned remembering the shroud that covered the entire bottom floor. 

The bat shifted in his hands from the weight. He looked back down at it, examining his reflection. “You can do this, Marik.” He muttered to himself reassuringly after taking a deep breath as he looked back up to the door, determination covering his face. 

Marik walked back up to the door and grabbed the knob. He took a deep breath, everything in him hoping the knob would turn this time. The door swung open, effortlessly. He walked back out into the soundless hallway. He glanced over the banister into the ominous cloud below. He shuddered before making his way back to Atem’s room. His hand was about to reach the knob until he felt a cold draft coming from the other end of the hallway.

His room.

He eyed the other end suspiciously watching as the door lightly moved along with the draft. He slowly walked over to his door only to realize that he’d been holding his breath. He swallowed his fear and opened the door.

And nearly screamed at the sight before him. 

His room looked as if it had been bathed in blood. The walls were all streaked with bloodstains and bloody handprints plastered all over them. It was all a shock but yet he couldn’t take his eyes off of Bakura.

Bakura, who was laying face down in the middle of the room. 

Bakura, who was laying in a pool of his own blood. Motionless. Lifeless.

Marik stood frozen at the door, unsure of what to do. Unwilling of what he would have to do. A million thoughts all raced through his head. Each thought seemed worse than the last. Part of him wanted to bolt down the stairs and try his best to find Grim. The other half…

The other half knew he needed to stay here and help.

Somehow.

Raising his hands to his head, he gripped his hair and closed his eyes, trying to force back tears. Trying to blink himself out of this reality. Something hitting against his foot foced him to open his eyes. He was looking at his feet. The bat that he was holding in his hands earlier had rolled to his foot. 

He looked back up but was utterly confused at what he saw.

The room was back to it’s dark demeanor. There wasn’t blood spattered all over the walls. Bakura was laying in the middle of the floor but it didn’t look as gruesome as he saw earlier. Wiping away a few stray tears from his eyes he ran over to Bakura’s side.

“Kura?” His voice cracked as he gently shook the man below him. Marik couldn’t help but feel elated at the small groan that Bakura gave in response to the nudge.

“What, Marik?” Bakura groaned as he slowly sat up. Marik promptly wrapped his arms around him.

“You’re alive!”

“Of course I’m alive. What are you on?”

Marik held Bakura by the shoulders as he looked at him square in the face. “What happened to you?”

Bakura stood silent and searched Marik’s face for an answer. 

“Please tell me you remember something, Kura.” Bakura frowned and looked away from the blond. Marik frowned, “What’s the last thing that you remember?”

“…I don’t-”

“Do you remember Grim?”

Bakura grimaced and side-eyed Marik. “How could I forget?”

Marik beamed. “Great! Now do you remember the hourglass from his trunk?”

Bakura stared at a corner of Marik’s room, pensive. “I think so.” He finally stated slowly. 

“Where is it?”

Marik eyed Bakura as he continued staring at the far corner. He seemed awake but he wasn’t completely there; Marik couldn’t pinpoint what the cause was. Upon not receiving a response from the elder, Marik finally followed Bakura’s gaze to the corner of the room. Bright violet eyes focused back at him. Marik swallowed the scream that was stuck in his throat. 

“How long has it been there?” Marik slowly asked, not looking away from the eyes. 

“Since you got here.” Bakura equally responded with the same delay. 

“Lovely.” Marik choked out as he slowly stood up, Bakura close behind him. “We need to go.”

“Where, genius?”

The creature in the corner tilted it’s head but remained staring at both men. A bad feeling rose at the pit of Marik’s stomach, causing him to reach out and grab Bakura by the arm. As soon as he did, the creature launched itself at them. Marik pulled Bakura out the door and towards the stairs. They both heard the creature crash into one of the walls in Marik’s room behind them.

“We need to jump down!” Marik yelled at Bakura, who stopped dead in his tracks at the revelation.

“We’re not doing that, Marik. There has to be another way.” 

“There isn’t. We have to get to Grim.” Another crash sounded in the room behind them causing them both to turn back to the room and then back to each other.

“What makes you think he’s downstairs?”

Marik held his right hand up to reveal the thread going straight down through the floor. Bakura bit his lip and looked at the thread somberly. Marik’s eyes darted back to the room behind Bakura. They didn’t have much time left. “We have to go. Now.”

“We need the hourglass.” Marik looked at Bakura’s fallen visage and dreaded what he would say next. “That creature has it.”

Marik facepalmed hard. “Of course the creature has it.”

Bakura glared at Marik, who immediately grabbed him by the arm and pulled him closer. The creature had made his way out of the room and was slowly making it’s way towards them. Marik took a step down the stairs, Bakura following suit, both of them not taking their eyes off of the creature. Bakura saw the shiny object reflecting in the creature’s arm.

“I just need to get close to it’s arm.” Bakura muttered, earning a stern side-glare from Marik. 

“No. Just leave it. We’ll figure what to do when we get back.”

Both men took another couple of steps down as the creature now stood at the top of the stairs. Marik hadn’t seen anything like this. Even though he could make out this creature’s eyes, he couldn’t really make out it’s body. It was all concealed in darkness and much like the shadow creature he saw earlier, it seemed as if it were feeding off of the darkness around them.

“You know we have no chance of getting back without that.” Bakura sternly stated. Marik glanced behind them, there were no more steps to go down. They were at the edge of the shroud. “Cover me.”

Marik’s head whipped back to see Bakura lunging at the arm of the creature before them. The creature swung it’s arm at Bakura but narrowly missed. Bakura landed behind the creature, hourglass in hand.

“Fuck! We still have time left!” 

Marik cringed hearing Bakura’s observation. The creature started turning around to face Bakura. Marik decided to do the only thing he logically could.

“Hey big dumb! Over here!”

The creature focused back at Marik, who was waving his hands in attempt to get it’s attention. Dark shards flared all around the creature causing Marik to inwardly shiver. He’d definitely made it mad. 

Marik nervously faltered on the step that he was on as the creature made a move to throw itself at the blond. What happened next occurred too fast for his mind to process. He braced for the impact only to be knocked off of his feet by Bakura, who had snuck around the creature and tackled him from the top of the stairs, into the shroud below.


	8. Mire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atem scolds both Marik and Bakura for going through his stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fictober Day 7: "yes I did, what about it?"
> 
> This one is a very short drabble. It's a slight bridge for other things to come :)

"So let me get this straight. The only reason you ported us out of there is because you were mad that we-"

"You." Bakura interrupted to correct the blond.

Marik rolled his eyes and continued. "That _I_ went through your stuff?"

Both men looked at Atem standing before them with his arms crossed as if he were scolding his children. At least that's how Marik felt as he was sitting on the couch next to Bakura. 

Everything after their meeting with the creature was still a blur. He remembered Bakura tackling them both into the darkness. He also recalled the cold emptiness that he had felt after they both had plunged in. It was as if he had dove into the ocean at night; feeling as if he were floating around aimlessly. His soul lost for all eternity. He still doesn’t know how Atem did it, but he was glad he pulled them both out of there. 

Even though, Atem had been less than amused the moment he pulled them back into their world. 

"Yes, I did. What about it?" Atem glared at both men, his arms still remaining crossed. Bakura shook his head and growled. 

"You could have at least pretended to care." Marik muttered, dejectedly. 

"Where the hell were you anyway?! We could have gotten killed!" He spat at Atem, who was slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst. 

The reaper eyed Bakura sternly before opening his mouth to reply. "Do you even know where you were?" 

"Clearly not, but I have a feeling that you're going to lecture us on it anyways." 

Atem ignored the spat and continued his thought. "It's called the other world; the Shadow Realm. There was no way to have gotten killed because there is nothing there that can possibly kill you." 

Marik and Bakura exchanged confused glances. 

"Have you ever been there?" 

The question had been cautiously asked but Atem still narrowed his eyes at Marik, almost insulted. "Of course I have. I occasionally go to feed Anubis." 

"That massive thing was your pet?" 

"Hey! She's gained some weight but I wouldn't call her big." Atem huffed. "She's definitely grown a lot for a Cerberus but she's a sweetheart." Upon seeing the confused looks on their faces deepen, Atem rolled his eyes. "You guys do know what a Cerberus is, right?"

“That’s not what we saw.”

“Pardon?”

“That’s not what we saw.” Bakura repeated, sternly. “Unless your Cerberus also has an identity crisis, the creature that we saw did not have 3 heads.”

Atem eyed both men with a scowl painted across his face. “You both are clearly mistaken. There’s no way you guys didn’t see Anubis.”

“We can go back!” Marik loudly exclaimed as he held up the hourglass only to have it immediately snatched out of his hands by the reaper.

“We are doing no such thing.”

Bakura eyed the object in Atem’s hands. “How did you get that, anyway?”

Atem followed Bakura’s stare only to land on the hourglass, causing him to snicker. “You know, you ask a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t care.”

Bakura groaned as Atem made his way towards the stairs. The reaper took one glance back at both men on the couch. “Oh and Marik?” The blond glanced back at the reaper, awaiting what he was going to say. “Stay out of my stuff.” 


End file.
